You'll Forget
by whocares10315
Summary: Kenny comforts a heartbroken Stan, telling him time heals and that he'll soon forget…


_**[fanfic] You'll Forget**_

**Title:** You'll Forget

**Author:** **whocares10315**

**Pairing:** Kenny/Stan

**Chapter:** One Shot

**Rating:** M for strong sexual content and offensive language

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Matt and Trey's precious babies.

**Author's Notes:** Dedicated to **cartmanxkylefan** for the request: Kenny/Stan; Post break-up Stan, consoling Kenny

**Summary:** Kenny comforts a heartbroken Stan, telling him time heals and that he'll soon forget…

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**You'll Forget**

Stan was admittedly surprised at himself for the last minute change of heart. He only realized he was heading for Kenny's house instead of Kyle's when he crossed the train tracks. He glanced back, as if reconsidering his decision. But he sighed to himself and shook his head. No, this was right. He needed to see Kenny. He needed a different perspective on things. He also needed someone who wouldn't roll his eyes at Stan's explanations, providing more "practical" ones, like a certain redhead he knew. Sometimes Stan didn't need practical. He sometimes just needed to be pitied.

Stan knocked on the door, adjusting his already too-small hat from his childhood. It was having trouble staying on his head, desperately clinging onto his skull, sliding off his glossy, dark hair frequently. Stan was giving his hat a good tug when Kenny answered the door.

"Stan," Kenny said with a mix of surprise and excitement. "Dude, what's up? You _never_ come 'round, so it must be good!"

That made Stan feel worse. Had he neglected Kenny as a friend? Sure, it was established that Kyle was his "super best friend" and that was that, but still—Kenny was his friend, too. Had he really avoided going to Kenny's decrepit house so often that the blonde was now used to the isolation? Pleasantly surprised when Stan finally _did_ come around? Had it really gotten that far?

"Stan?" Kenny asked, when the dark-haired boy said nothing. The blonde tilted his head, looking a hint concerned. "You okay? You kinda look like shit."

"I know," Stan answered, looking up at his friend, seeing the concern and deeply obliged for it. "Can I come in?"

"Sure, dude. Don't even have to ask," Kenny shrugged, moving to let his friend in, curious blue eyes never leaving Stan.

Stan nodded his thanks before following Kenny inside, absently wondering how Kenny could live the way he did; the house was filthy, as usual. Kenny, himself, was pretty filthy, with a slightly yellowed and worn wife beater due to too many washes and bright orange cargo pants he probably found at some donation place, like Goodwill.

"Stop staring at my ass, I know it's tempting," Kenny sighed with mock exasperation as he led Stan to the familiar atmosphere of his room.

Stan simply rolled his eyes at the other's characteristic humor, finding himself smiling a little bit despite how old Kenny's flirt and sex jokes got. He just felt comfortable with something so normal. Even as he sat on the edge of Kenny's naked mattress, surrounded by calendar girls and Sports Illustrated spreads, he never felt more comfortable.

"So," Kenny started, flopping beside Stan to lean back on his sinewy, thin arms, turning to his friend. "What's on your mind, Stan the Man? What's troublin' the Dude?"

"It's Wendy," Stan said, cringing as he did, watching for Kenny's reaction. Kyle usually made a face, or sighed, or asked him what "Wendy had done _this_ time." There wasn't much of a reaction from the blonde, though; Kenny simply nodded and blinked.

"What about her?" Kenny shrugged, tilting his head. "You guys get in another fight?"

"We broke up," Stan clarified, knowing he must have sounded bitter. "She broke up with me."

"Oh." Stan felt Kenny sit up a bit, looking at his profile closely. Stan knew if he was any less of a guy, he probably would have started to tear up. But instead, he tensed every muscle in his body, including those in his face, not meeting Kenny's eyes.

"I'm sorry." Stan was surprised to hear the sincerity and pity in Kenny's words. He looked up and saw that same concern he saw earlier. How had he not realized that Kenny was a sensitive friend?

"It's okay," Stan lied, despite how not okay he was about the situation. "It just- just sucks, you know?"

"Yeah, dude, of course," Kenny nodded, placing a hand on Stan's shoulder. It didn't do any excessive rubbing or squeezing. It just sat there, for warmth, comfort, and presence. Letting him know he was there.

"I mean, we fought and broke up all the time," Stan chuckled halfheartedly, taking off his childhood hat to give his fingers something to fiddle with. "But—this time was for real."

Stan knew if he had told this to Kyle, the redhead would borderline lose his temper and tell him that every time was _always_ "for real." That every time was just as bad as the last. That next week, they would get back together, anyway. To give it time, because it always worked out. Stan knew Kyle had given up long ago convincing Stan to give Wendy up. So whenever Stan bothered Kyle with his Wendy problems, Kyle's solution was always the same: just wait.

That was why Kenny's next words caught Stan off guard at first.

"Shit, Stan. I'm real sorry. That really sucks balls," Kenny murmured, watching his friend closely. "I know what that feels like. Trust me."

"Really?" Stan asked, looking up at his blonde friend with new eyes. He understood?

"Ch'yeah," Kenny scoffed, smirking lopsidedly but in a sad way Stan didn't recognize. "Even a pimp like me has gotten his heart broken, man."

Stan could tell Kenny was trying to stay light-hearted and joking so as not to bring him down, but Stan could see the reciprocated hurt in Kenny's usually playful blue eyes.

"It just feels empty and lonely now," Stan continued, now inspired to speak more since Kenny seemed to relate. "Like, worse than ever before."

"Dude," Kenny shook his head, laughing sardonically. "Why do you think I fuck on through to the other side? To pretend I'm not lonely, that's why."

Kenny blinked, face going blank for a second. Stan stared, questioningly at the other's explanation and the pause that followed it.

"I don't- really know why I told you that just now," Kenny snorted, scratching his fingers through his blonde hair and scrunching up his nose in confusion.

"'Cos it's honest?" Stan tried to rationalize, shrugging himself. "I'unno, dude. But I'm glad I can talk about this with you."

"Any time for any thing, brah," Kenny teased, adding a wink to return to his normal, prankster self as he shoved Stan affectionately. San found himself shoving back, feeling relief he hadn't felt in a long while. Coming to Kenny was a good idea. He would have never guessed that the blonde could console him the way he did.

"Now it's just a matter of me getting over it, I guess," Stan sighed tiredly, looking down at his hat. "I don't know how I'm going to think of anyone else but her."

"Stan, lemme give you some advice," Kenny offered, tossing a friendly arm around Stan's shoulders as he prepared to give Stan his words of wisdom. Stan raised an eyebrow at Kenny in anticipation, feeling like a living cliché of what a friend giving another friend advice acted like. Kenny was like that; he liked drama and clichés. Stan remembered one time when Kenny said he would love to be an actor. Not only would it be a great paying job if Kenny took off, but he'd get to do what he did best; pretend.

"Forget her," Kenny said with a flick of his wrist, making a face that was a cross between sympathetic and careless. "Just forget her."

"Easier said than done, dude," Stan guffawed, rolling his eyes at the idea. "I can't just forget her like nothing ever happened."

"You can try," Kenny reinforced, shrugging as he did. "Listen, you only remember things that mean shit and, man; women don't mean _shit_!"

This, of course, made Stan laugh. He only doubled over more when Kenny started acting "G" and made up a faux rap about how "bitches don't mean shit." Kenny was ridiculous. And that was what Stan liked about Kenny. He knew how to make Stan laugh and make him feel better about a situation, instead of over analyzing it and pouring his entire soul into it. Stan liked Kenny because he made it so easy to think of something else besides the situation. To forget.

After the laughter had dissolved a bit, the blonde ending up making himself laugh, Stan shook his head, still chuckling when he looked at the blonde.

"I'm so glad I know you, dude," Stan smiled, noting how Kenny perked up at this and grinned back.

"Well, y'know," Kenny cleared his throat, puffing up his chest and smirking. "I'm a valuable friend to have. I'm hot, funny, nice, and suck cock like a champ."

"Dude!" Stan interjected, though he was laughing again. "Not cool!"

"What?" Kenny shrugged, still grinning himself. "I _do_ suck cock like a champ. I can prove it!"

"No!" Stan shouted, still laughing when Kenny moved to unbutton his pants, batting his hands away. "No dick sucking! Down, Kenny!"

Despite the fact that Stan was clearly joking around, practically fighting Kenny to keep his hands away, a small part of him was struck with anxiety. What if Kenny was being serious? What would he do? He knew Kenny didn't discriminate his bed partners by gender. He had never cared or even acknowledged it until he looked at Kenny and caught him watching him with that playful glint…

"Seriously, Kenny, I'm gonna kick your ass if you don't fuck off!" Stan threatened, laughing a bit nervously now as he grabbed Kenny's wrists, leaning back slightly.

"I'd like to see your skinny ass try, Marsh," Kenny snickered, still appearing as if he was joking as he wrestled Stan onto his back, getting on his hips. "Gotcha!"

Stan panicked. But not enough to let the blonde know. It could still be a joke. Kenny was laughing. Stan attempted a weak chuckle as he struggled against Kenny, trying to free himself. But as he wriggled under his friend, he felt his face heat up. Why was this happening?

"Mmn, you look pretty good down there, Stanny," Kenny smirked, tilting his head with that mischievous look that made it impossible for Stan to decipher joke from intent. "How have I never realized?"

"Maybe because realizing or even thinking about it violates so many friend codes it's not even funny," Stan offered, biting his lip, admittedly nervous about where the situation was going.

"Nah, I don't pay attention to codes," Kenny dismissed, shaking his head as he looked down at his friend thoughtfully. "I hate rules."

Stan swallowed tightly, hearing himself answer with a pathetic "oh." Suddenly, Kenny's face was different. It was almost, peaceful. Gentle. Loving? Stan stiffened and took in a sharp breath when Kenny suddenly leaned down.

"You forgot her for a few minutes, didn't ya?" Kenny whispered, slowly smiling as he watched Stan come to that realization. "Not so hard, right?"

"Yeah, you're right!" Stan said, shocked at himself. Was it really that easy? Just distract yourself with something else? Stan's throat went dry when he noticed that in his thought process, he almost thought, "just distract yourself with some_one_ else." _And he's right in front of you…_

Stan shook his head inwardly. No. He denied all those thoughts. The implications that those thoughts held were too much. But still—here was, in Kenny's room, underneath him, on the bed. Stan's imagination was bound to places and with his teenage libido, he couldn't help but wander into that dangerous territory.

"What'cha thinkin' about, dude?" Kenny suddenly asked, noticing how quiet Stan got. He didn't move, Stan noticed, from his place on top of him. "Tell me."

"It's-it's not Wendy, so don't worry about it," Stan forced himself to chuckle, finding it increasingly difficult to lie to himself about the level of desire and lust involved in the situation. Stan scolded himself at thinking of such a thing in such a situation and with a best friend, no less. But something in him stirred and he just couldn't help himself.

"You're thinkin' about how sexy I look on top of you, am I right?" Kenny teased, biting his lip as he removed his wrists from Stan's hold swiftly to turn the tables and pin Stan back. "I'm game, Marsh."

"That's not-" Stan started to stammer, his face flushing as Kenny's grew nearer, back arching instinctively. "That's not what I was thinking."

"What's the matter, Stanny," Kenny murmured, brushing his nose against Stan's in a taunting manner. "Getting a lil nervous?"

"N-no," Stan replied meekly, slowly sinking into a submissive state, unable to handle what was happening. He thought he saw a look of surprise cross Kenny's face. But before he could investigate, Kenny dissolved back into his normal, relaxed expression.

"I see," Kenny said knowingly before suddenly pressing a fleeting kiss to Stan's mouth. In Stan's shock, his lips fell open. Kenny didn't hesitate to go in for another kiss, lapping at Stan's stunned lips, coaxing him into it with a small hum.

Stan didn't shove Kenny away. That was what first surprised Stan. The second thing was the fact that he found himself stretching his torso under his blonde friend's, tugging gently at the hold on his wrists as he slowly began to move his lips back against Kenny's. The third thing was he was enjoying it. As their lips opened and closed in unison, heads tilting and falling into their customary places, a jolt went through him when Kenny's tongue brushed his own. He made a small noise as he broke away quickly to look up Kenny, confused of both his own and Kenny's intentions.

"Kenny?" he asked quietly, and almost timidly; something rare for a boy like Stan, who usually didn't ask for much and lived the simple life. When thrust in conditions such as those, Stan was lost. And needed some kind of answer, some ground, some reason behind all their feelings and actions.

"Stan," Kenny finally answered, not moving from his place as he spoke, more seriously than Stan had ever heard him. "I promise, that by the time you leave this piss poor excuse of a house, you'll forget her. You'll forget it all."

That was enough for Stan.

Kenny descended upon his dark-haired friend once more. He held Stan's wrists fast with one hand, the other one, moving to touch Stan's face slightly as he kissed the other fervently. Stan's breath hitched as he tilted his head and kissed Kenny back, passionately, feverishly, as if all of his sorrows and trashed love was being poured into the moment he shared with Kenny, who happily if not selfishly drank it all.

Stan found himself pressing his body up against Kenny's for more connection, sighing passed Kenny's lips at the warmth. Kenny nipped at Stan's lower lip, groaning gently at the feel of the other moving beneath him. In answer, Kenny nestled between Stan's legs and molded his body against Stan's, giving a quick jerk of the hips, testing how far they would go.

Stan released a short moan as Kenny's hips met his own. He panted quietly, trying to capture Kenny's lips at every moment, his hips trying to do the same with Kenny's. At every brush of their arousals, Stan would find his slick lips, slipping away to release another groan, body rolling with need.

"Stan," Kenny grunted, pressing his sloppy kisses past Stan's gums, feeling their teeth clash briefly as Kenny grew more fierce.

Kenny wriggled his hips to fit between Stan's legs, encouraging them to fall open as he started to buck the front of his pants against Stan's blue jeans. Kenny answered Stan's short moans with his own long groans of pleasure at the friction between them. Kenny never thought he'd hear those beautiful sounds falling from his friend's lips. But hearing them in reality only made Kenny want to push more of those sounds out of Stan's lungs. He breathed heavily as he bit into Stan's chin before dipping his head to lick and suck on his neck. Meanwhile, he stilled his hips momentarily to slip his free hand between them, swiftly and expertly unbuttoning and unzipping Stan's jeans, cupping him through his underwear briefly.

"_Nnnh,_ Kenny," Stan tensed, gasping at the other touching him. But the moment didn't last. Kenny was already moving his hand to trail under Stan's T-shirt, fingertips teasing at one of Stan's nipples as he humped the coarse material of his cargo pants against Stan's newly exposed erection.

"Fuck, Ken," Stan growled, small whimpers finding their way out of his throat as he leaned back, rubbing himself up against Kenny with flushed cheeks. "_Mmmn_, so good."

Kenny loved hearing noises of approval, let alone Stan's. He smirked against Stan's bruised flesh, licking over the mark lovingly before propping himself up on his free arm, the other one still above them, hold tightening around Stan's wrists. He stared down at the other with hooded eyes and blonde hair kissing Stan's cheeks. Kenny would make Stan forget. He would make sure of it. He would make sure that the only thing Stan could think about was him. Not Wendy. Not Kyle. Not what he was going to have for dinner that night. Him.

The blonde boy leaned back some to unbutton his pants with a look of determination on his face. He grinned coyly at the dark haired boy who, breathlessly, awaited the other's next move with needy anticipation. Kenny revealed himself, stretching painfully in his white briefs, making Stan stare and groan without thinking. Kenny watched, amused, as Stan tried to kick his jeans off the rest of the way, spreading his knees.

"Eager, huh?" Kenny teased, licking his lips as he relished Stan's appearance; probably one that nobody else got to see. Not even Wendy.

"Kenny, don't fuck around," Stan grumbled, blinking back up at the other, a hint of the same anxiety still there as he tugged the wrists above his head, making him arch his back; what was going to happen next?

"But that's all I do," Kenny pouted before dissolving into a smirk, leaning down to envelop Stan's lips once more, moaning in approval at his taste before allowing his arousal to meet Stan's, the thin materials of their underwear the only thing separating them.

Stan's eyes rolled back into his head as he choked out a moan, spreading his knees further and rocking his hips harshly up against Kenny's. The blonde smothered his loud groan in Stan's shoulder, humping harder as he felt the friction produce something damp between them. At every thrust, the old mattress squeaked underneath them, and the two of them gasped for air, whimpering, moaning, and panting sweet nothings into the heated air. Kenny wanted to dry fuck Stan into his very mattress; wanted to see and feel Stan come. But Kenny had other plans and he was going to stick to them.

He pressed a chaste kiss to Stan's lips as he released his wrists, which seemed to confuse the dark haired boy. Kenny just smirked, pressing Stan's T-shirt up to lick and lap at his chest hungrily, cupping his ribs. Stan tried to watch but would be overcome with the scene and let his head fall back with a token moan. Kenny licked along Stan's nipple, feeling it grow taut as the other one was tended to by his fingertips. He felt Stan quiver beneath him and glanced his eyes up to watch Stan's reddening expression. He trailed down further, dipping his tongue into Stan's small belly button, teething playfully at Stan's toned muscle.

He took ahold of Stan's narrow waist, making sure to meet Stan's eyes as he pressed his lips along his shaft, stroking it through the thin material of his boxers.

"_Ah_," Stan gasped, a wavering whimper following after it. "_Ahnn_, Jesus Christ."

Kenny knew Stan didn't have much time, so after lipping the other's arousal through his underwear, he leaned up to take Stan's waistband by the teeth and tug it down with a sneer and a raise of the eyebrow, as if to ask the boy; "impressed?"

Stan was panting, desperate for release and sighing in some relief when his erection was finally freed. He watched Kenny, licking his dry lips with furrowed eyebrows, looking tense, concerned. He groaned, toes curling, when Kenny kissed up his inner thighs and licked at the base before finally taking it with his fingers and licking the head. Stan grunted, trying to buck his arousal into Kenny's mouth, feeling that it never belonged somewhere so much. But Kenny simply stared up at Stan, stroking the base as he bobbed his head, swirling his tongue around the mushroom head like a pro. He turned his head as if romancing the head, tightening his lips whenever he slipped down the shaft.

Soon, Kenny didn't need the help of his fingers to stroke Stan down. He held onto Stan's hips, taking the other in completely, lips meeting his torso as Stan hit the back of his throat, making it ring in a way that only Kenny would find pleasant. He moaned around the other, humping his own hips shallowly into the air as if desperately searching for friction.

"K-kenny, _ah_, I can't-, _nnh_!" Stan found it difficult to speak, finding Kenny's work the best blowjob he had ever had. "M'gonna come. F-fuck, so c-close!"

Before Kenny could blink, he felt Stan's hot seed trickling down his throat. He heard Stan gasp above him, panting as he desperately rocked his hips up into Kenny's mouth, wanting to keep the throb of the orgasm from leaving to swiftly.

When he felt Stan collapse underneath him, Kenny found it the opportune moment to climb onto Stan, straddling one of his legs and jerking himself off that way.

"_Mmf,_ fuck, Stanny," Kenny found himself snicker a bit, even past his panting groans and whimpers, his hips rocking shamelessly. "Yeah, _nnh_."

Stan gaped up at his friend, his own eyes still glazed with lust and not at all helped by the fact that Kenny was humping against his leg, searching for release, with a tight expression. Stan found himself groaning, despite how spent he was, simply by watching Kenny bite his own lip, grunting as he gyrated against Stan. After a moment of awe, Stan found his fingers fumble between their sealed bodies to slip under Kenny's briefs, taking the thick, heavy length in his hand to help.

"Aw, yeah, Stan," Kenny quivered, his body arching as he hovered over the other, fucking Stan's hand in every sense of the word.

Stan stroked Kenny, tightening his fingers around it for Kenny to have his way with. His thumb brushed along the head, pressing behind it as he jerked Kenny off. That was all it took for a shock to release inside the blonde, a loud crescendo of moans and whimpers surrounding them as the bed shook underneath them from Kenny's harsh jostling into Stan's fingers as he came, prolonging the ecstasy for as long as he could.

Finally, Kenny fell onto Stan, still gasping for air. Stan left his hand between them, legs tangled with Kenny's and other hand wrapped around Kenny's shoulder. They lay there, perfectly happy and aglow in their awkward positions.

After a few moments passed, Stan, realizing the reality of it all, sat up slightly, making Kenny look up at him sleepily, clearly coming close to having napped.

"So um, thanks," Stan found himself croaking, smiling sheepishly at the other.

"Told you- any time, any thing," Kenny smirked, before grabbing Stan by the chin and kissing him passionately. Stan was almost ashamed at how easily he melted when Kenny kissed him. How everything else seemed to matter so much less. Kenny was magic, he understood now. Who wouldn't want to be with such magic? To feel so loved.

"Now," Kenny murmured, flicking a strand of dark hair from Stan's eyes with a look of satisfaction. "You're finally all mine."

And again,

That was enough for Stan. More than enough.

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~*Love? Hate? Undecided? Let me know. Thanks for reading!*~


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